THE DISABLED HEIRESS, MY EX-HUSBAND WOULD PAY DEARLY.
Chapter 36

Chapter 36: Chapter 36

At that moment, upon hearing what Malisa had just said, Samuel’s representatives could barely hold their expressions together. The man in grey dropped his gaze to the floor, letting out a slow exhale, while the woman beside him gave the faintest shake of her head, disbelief written all over her face.

They knew Samuel too well.

He was not the type to follow rules—especially rules that placed him beneath someone’s thumb. The idea of being monitored, of walking on eggshells, of having his every action scrutinized by someone he had just insulted? It sounded impossible. This was Samuel Callum. The star who had always done things his way. And now... now he was expected to behave?

They were certain he wouldn’t sign. They were sure he would throw the contract aside, storm out, and call some other agency within the hour demanding triple the offer. That’s what he had always done. That’s who he had always been.

But then—something shifted.

Samuel looked up at Malisa, and instead of the usual arrogance, his face held something else: a strange mix of humility and curiosity. His pride still burned within him, yes—but something about Cora’s presence had shaken him. Deeply.

He took a moment, then asked quietly, "Is that the only rule?"

Malisa didn’t miss a beat. She folded her arms and nodded firmly. "Yes. That’s it. No drama. No arrogance. No reports. One headline, one complaint, one verified issue—and your contract is terminated. Cora is serious, Samuel. Dead serious. You’ve seen how she works. There won’t be warnings. It will be final."

Silence stretched across the room.

Samuel’s representatives exchanged a glance. This was it—they expected him to erupt, to tear the contract in half, to walk away with fury.

Instead, Samuel nodded slowly.

"No problem," he said, voice low but steady. "I accept the contract condition."

Upon hearing what Samuel had just said, both of his representatives were visibly shaken. Their jaws dropped immediately, their eyes wide with disbelief. It was as if the ground beneath their feet had shifted and they no longer knew who Samuel Callum really was.

This was the same man who had walked into MK Entertainment today demanding double his current salary, the same man who threatened to walk out if his conditions weren’t met, the same man who acted like the world revolved around his stardom. Now, he was agreeing to no raise, strict behavioral conditions, and a contract that could be ripped apart with a single bad report?

What was he thinking?

The woman in the navy blazer stared at him, lips slightly parted, while the man in grey blinked hard, trying to make sense of what had just happened. What is he trying to prove? Is he planning something? Has he gone mad? These questions screamed silently between them, but neither could bring themselves to voice it—at least not out loud.

They glanced at each other again, unsure whether this was some grand strategy or an emotional impulse Samuel would regret tomorrow morning. And yet... he looked calm. Too calm. It was unsettling.

Malisa, always quick to sense hesitation, leaned forward slightly and said, "Since Samuel has agreed, then let’s move forward. The contract is right there. He can come and sign."

Her voice was steady, clear, and full of finality. There would be no more talking circles around the decision.

Just then, as Samuel moved toward the table, the man in the grey suit took a cautious step closer to him and leaned in, whispering urgently into his ear.

"Samuel," he murmured, "this is a mistake. Don’t do this. The risks are too great. You know this contract isn’t in our favor. One slip, one rumor, and you’re done. Think carefully."

The man in the grey suit tugged Samuel’s sleeve, lowering his voice to a hurried whisper. "Samuel, listen. The risk is too much. One wrong headline and MK will drop you. Remember the other studio—the one offering twice your current salary? They promised artistic control, script approval, profit shares. If we take that deal, you’d be the king of their roster. You could shape your own movies."

Samuel looked down at the contract, its crisp pages waiting like a loaded trap.

The woman in navy leaned in, urgency flashing in her eyes. "He’s right," she added, glancing from the document to Samuel’s face. "Even if that studio is smaller, your star power will keep you in every top film. You’d still land blockbuster roles—maybe even more freedom than MK can give. Why risk everything over pride?"

She tapped her tablet, pulling up the rival studio’s proposal—bonuses, premium perks, co-producer titles. "This isn’t just a pay raise," she murmured. "It’s leverage, creative control, a team ready to put your name first in every headline. We came here hoping for an upgrade, but MK is boxing you in. Please—think. We can walk out, call their offer in thirty minutes, lock it down, and celebrate by tomorrow."

Samuel exhaled slowly, eyes drifting to Malisa. She waited, arms crossed, expression unreadable. The probation terms glinted in his mind—one mistake and everything gone. Yet behind those strict lines was Cora’s presence: the power, the challenge, the undeniable pull that had shaken him to his core.

He closed the rival studio’s file with a gentle swipe, then straightened to full height. His representatives’ worries tumbled over him like waves, but he’d already made his choice. Pride still simmered beneath his skin, yet something stronger now guided him—respect, curiosity, perhaps even something deeper he didn’t dare name aloud.

The man in grey leaned closer, voice dropping further. "Samuel, you might not last a month under these rules. One slip—just one—and you’re done. Why chain yourself to that? Take the safer path."

Samuel’s lips curved, a subtle, calm smile replacing the tight line of anxiety. He lifted a hand, patting the man’s shoulder with measured patience.

"You have no idea what’s going on," he said quietly—more to himself than to them, though both reps heard every word.

The woman in navy frowned. "What are you planning?"

A faint light sparked in Samuel’s gaze—equal parts determination and intrigue. He looked from one representative to the other, steadying his breath.

"Relax," he murmured, words rolling out in a soft cadence that carried a promise neither of them understood yet. "Trust me. Let me handle this."

Still, neither of Samuel’s representatives could wrap their heads around what he had just said. They stood there in stunned silence, trying to make sense of his strange calmness—of that almost amused smile on his face. For a man who had once demanded more than anyone else in the industry, to suddenly accept less, accept restrictions, and still carry such peace in his tone... it didn’t add up.

The man in grey finally broke the silence, frustration slipping into his voice.

"There’s nothing in that contract for you, Samuel," he said, eyes wide. "No raise, no bonuses, no freedom, just a trap waiting to snap. What do you mean it’s ’alright’? How is this alright?"

Samuel chuckled softly—just enough to draw attention, but not mockingly. It was the laugh of a man who knew something no one else in the room did. He turned his head slowly, glancing at both of them with an almost amused look.

"You don’t leave a whale to chase a catfish," he said smoothly, voice full of meaning. "You don’t walk away from the ocean just because it’s stormy. Big can’t be compared to small, no matter how attractive the bait might look at the time."

He turned his gaze toward the contract again. His expression didn’t change, but there was something in his eyes—focused, determined, and strangely hopeful.

"I’m going to say it again," he said quietly, "you don’t need to worry. This might not look like a good idea now. It might not be the kind of deal you expected when we walked into this building... but soon."

He paused, voice dropping even softer.

"Soon, you’ll understand what I meant, and by that time both of you will understand why I took this decision and then both of you will understand, but before then just know this is the best decision for me.

and I’m sure that soon you will see it, but now relax, and allow me do my thing."

Neither of his representatives had anything left to say. They stood there, mouths parted slightly, trying to process what he was hinting at. But nothing came. No explanation. No reasoning. Just a calm man who seemed to have made peace with his path.

But deep inside, without being told, they both understood one thing very clearly: Samuel had made up his mind. Fully. Firmly. There was no talking him out of this now.

At that moment, Samuel stepped forward, his footsteps steady and quiet. He walked closer to the desk where Malisa stood watching him with guarded eyes. She didn’t smile, didn’t flinch. She simply held the contract steady, waiting.

Without hesitation, Samuel picked up the pen. His eyes didn’t leave Malisa’s, and without saying another word, he signed the contract.

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